


Time Has Told Me (Not to Ask For More)

by blondsak



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Peter Parker, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, defenestration of canon as one does, remix fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak
Summary: Given a million years - and yes, Tony recognizes the irony in that thought - he never could have fathomed things would turn out this way.That they’d turn out with Peter unable to age, or to have children.That they’d turn out with Peter unable to die.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 116
Kudos: 385





	Time Has Told Me (Not to Ask For More)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seekrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Could Have Stayed Beside You (Could Have Stayed For More)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516115) by [seekrest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest). 



> This story is in honor of seekrest, one of my oldest and best friends in the fandom and who also happens to be celebrating her birthday today. There’s nothing else I could write here that you don’t already know my friend, so rather than get sappy on main I’ll just say happy birthday and this one’s for you <3
> 
> A big thank you to [forensicleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forensicleaf/pseuds/forensicleaf) who beta’d this 11k monstrosity sentence-by-sentence for me. You are the Queen of Tenses and a whole lot more, friend!! Also thank you to [coconutknightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coconutknightshade) for your amazing live commentary that made me cry and smile in equal measure <3
> 
> Finally, this story is a remix of seekrest’s fic [Could Have Stayed Beside You (Could Have Stayed For More)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516115/chapters/51285712). You don’t necessarily need to read that one to follow this story, but you absolutely should go read it because it’s positively amazing!!

**_10\. (4_ _months, 1 day)_ **

Death had been chasing Tony his entire life. From overdosing at 17, crude surgery in a cave when he was 38, a body full of poison right as he turned 40, drifting in space at 48, 53 and nearly down an arm, and now for the final time - heart failure at 80.

How he had eluded an earlier demise, he couldn’t say. But he did know that the older he got, the more he found he wanted to stick around - for Pepper, for Morgan, and for Peter.

Yet Tony had never been as preoccupied with the prospect of his own death as he had been with the very idea of Peter’s. With every suit upgrade, every patrol assist, every long night in the medbay-- Tony had only ever fought to prevent the kid from going beyond the veil, no matter how inevitable it would eventually be.

But Tony hadn’t been able to prevent it, in the end. Thanos had won and in the process shattered all of Tony’s dreams for the teen. Getting the kid back after five years and surviving the ensuing battle had been a goddamn miracle, one that Tony had neither expected nor dared to hope for.

And just like that, his life had returned back to the line it should always have gone down-- back to Tony doing his best to keep Peter alive, even as he had mostly retired as Iron Man. Tony had only ever wanted to make sure that Peter had a long, full life; that he could pass away of natural causes at a ripe old age long after Tony - with any luck - did the same.

But as usual the universe saw fit to grant Tony his desires at a price, giving him all he wanted but with too high a cost.

Given a million years - and yes, Tony sees the irony in that thought - he never could have fathomed things would turn out this way. 

That they’d turn out with Peter unable to age, or to have children. 

That they’d turn out with Peter unable to die.

So yes, Tony got what he wanted. Peter was alive-- was going to keep on living for a very, very long time. 

But now, sitting at death’s door, coins in hand, Tony can’t help but think that Peter Parker living forever was - in its own unspeakable way - a tragedy.

* * *

**_2\. (8 years, 2 months, 11 days)_ **

The day Peter dies for the second time, Tony isn’t in the city-- he and Pepper are at the lake cabin with Rhodey, who had missed Tony’s birthday party the month before and insisted upon visiting. 

The three of them are just about to sit down for lunch when Tony gets the alert from FRIDAY on his watch, immediately going into the living room and turning on a local NYC news channel. 

It’s barely been more than six months since the last time Peter was battling a foe on live television, but it never fails to get Tony’s heart racing, seeing his kid fight the likes of Lizard or Sandman. Even after watching Peter outwit and outfight almost every single bad guy stupid enough to go after him over the last twenty years, Tony still worries. 

This time, his fear doesn’t feel unwarranted-- because it’s not just one villain but two: Doc Ock and Shocker. And this time, it doesn’t seem clear that Peter will come out on top. 

Peter’s suit is shredded to hell, and Tony can tell by his movements - just a touch less quicker than normal - that he’s already injured. If Peter doesn’t get out of there soon, Tony realizes with a piercing, painful clarity, he might not get out of there at all.

“FRIDAY, call every Avenger-- he needs back-up,” Tony orders, voice laced with a growing sense of panic. 

There’s ten seconds of silence before FRIDAY announces, “The Avengers are currently on a diplomatic mission in South America, boss.”

“You mean there’s nobody?” Rhodey asks, incredulous. “There’s gotta be someone nearby!”

“Shit,” Tony says, slamming a palm to his forehead. “I forgot. Sam mentioned it at my party-- said they’d all be away for a week. _Goddammit!”_

“Tony,” Pepper says then, staring at the screen, and Tony turns back to see Peter get body-slammed into the side of a building by one of Doc Ock’s tentacles, just barely recovering in time to avoid a death blow.

Tony turns to Pepper and Rhodey, panicked. “I gotta go--”

“You mean _we_ gotta go,” Rhodey corrects him.

Looking between his best friend and his wife’s determined faces. Tony nods an affirmative, and all three race out the door, the emergency suits kept in storage wrapping around them.

They’re all in their sixties and seventies now, haven’t worn the suits in nearly two decades, but it’s no matter-- they’re going to save Peter. There is simply no other option.

They’re barely a minute into the flight when May calls.

_“Tony, are you watching--”_

“Pep, Rhodey and I are on our way,” Tony interrupts her. “We’re two minutes out.”

Silence for a beat, then-- _“Save our boy.”_

“I will,” Tony promises her, hanging up.

Next he tries calling Michelle, but it goes straight to voicemail. Tries again, same thing.

He can’t decide if he hopes she knows what’s going on or not. He doesn’t have much time to ponder it over when thirty seconds out from the battle, Peter calls him.

“Kid?!”

_“Uh, you don’t happen to be super busy right now, do you?”_

Tony can hear the sounds of the fight in the background, Peter’s panting breaths, a small groan of pain. He wants to chastise the kid for distracting himself and calling when Karen could have easily done it, but instead he says, “Three steps ahead of you, underoos. I’ll be there in twenty seconds. Just hang on.”

There’s a few more seconds of battle sounds. Tony dips below the cloud line, Manhattan clear in the distance. They’re so close now.

_“Iron Man to the rescue just like old times… any chance we can grab some shawarma after this? Michelle found a great place just last--”_

A shot rings out, cutting Peter off. 

Tony looks at his kid’s vitals, which have been displayed in the upper right corner of his viewscreen since they left the cabin. “Peter?”

Even as he asks he can see TImes Square below-- can see his kid swinging between buildings, Shocker closing in on his six. Five more seconds.

_“I’m-- I’m okay, just--”_

Doc Ock slips out from an alley, just behind the kid.

It’s like the most devastating full surround sound movie, what happens next. Tony doesn’t even have time to cry out as he watches the villain pierce a tentacle straight through Peter’s midsection. Simultaneously he hears a terrible squelching noise from Peter’s end of the comm just as the kid lets out a small cry that Tony knows he’ll never be able to unhear.

“Peter!” 

_“Tony--”_

Doc Ock slams Peter into the ground, the kid laying there limp and broken as his vitals plummet, heart beating once, twice and no more.

Tony lands on the ground, having just enough presence of mind to stay in the suit as he takes in Peter’s still form. His vitals continue to display in the corner, Tony’s eyes darting between them and the kid over and over again as he races over, desperate to find that the complete lack of a heartbeat is somehow a mistake even though his tech _never_ makes mistakes.

He feels far away from the sounds of Rescue and War Machine fighting off the two villains as he falls to his knees at Peter’s side, immediately turning the kid over-- refusing to let his mind fully process the gaping hole through his middle or the way his neck is twisted at a sickening angle. 

Instead he clutches Peter to his chest, rocking him back and forth as he stares down at where the kid’s nanite mask is fractured-- focusing on Peter’s exposed chin where he has that one mole he sometimes mentions getting removed. It’s the mole Michelle jokingly calls Peter’s ‘beauty mark’, and that May insists made him the cutest baby in Queens, and that Tony occasionally swipes his thumb against when he palms the kid’s cheek, just like he’s doing right now, even as Peter’s features grow watery and distorted--

“FRIDAY?” Tony begs in a shaky whisper, and distantly he knows he’s sobbing, shaking from the force of his grief, but all he can manage to think is _please please please--_

“I’m so sorry, boss. He’s gone.”

* * *

**_1\. (8 years, 3 months, 3 days)_ **

In hindsight, Tony wonders if the day he first noticed - _truly_ noticed - Peter’s seemingly eternal youth was a warning from the universe of what was to pass only weeks later. As if somehow, his Dad Sense had picked up on the fact that everything was about to change, in ways that were seemingly incomprehensible at the time. 

“Happy birthday, old man!” Peter calls out as he and Michelle make their way through the crowd of partygoers.

Tony chuckles, bringing Peter in for a hug and saying in his ear, “You don’t get to call me old man anymore, kid. God you’re what, thirty-five?”

Saying it aloud reminds Tony of being in his mid-thirties, only mere years away from being Iron Man. The thought of himself at that age is perhaps what causes him to pull away from Peter, eyes passing over each of his features. 

Peter is over twenty years older than he had been the day of that fated OsCorp field trip, and yet he barely looks a day over twenty, period. 

Tony suddenly recalls a small dinner get-together at May and Happy’s apartment a few months before. Peter had only just taken his coat off when May ushered him right back out the door with two twenties and an order to buy a couple bottles of wine, only for him to return fifteen minutes later empty-handed. He’d explained that he’d forgotten his wallet in his jacket pocket, and the cashier refused to sell to him without an ID. They’d all laughed about it at the time-- Happy making a joke about Peter’s baby face. And yet… 

Tony shakes his head slightly, willing himself back to the present.

“Sometimes I look at you,” he says, eyes still roaming Peter’s face, “and it’s like I still see that nerdy fifteen year-old, telling me he couldn’t go to Germany because he had homework.”

Peter just grins at him, chuckling. “It’s been years, Tony. Let it go.”

But the thought had taken hold, Tony turning it over and over in his mind the entire day. 

He doesn’t mention it to anyone else until that evening.

“Did you see Peter with Morgan today?” 

Pepper looks up from where she’s nestled on the couch, reading an old Christie paperback. They had only just finished cleaning, and had settled in the living room for the rest of the evening.

“Peter and Morgan? Of course. They were chatting away in the kitchen for a good hour. I finally had to put Peter on cake-cutting duty so I could get something more than a casual _hey mom_ ,” she says with a smile.

Tony bites his cheek. “You didn’t happen to notice how… close in age they look, did you?”

Pepper frowns, looking down at the floor for a moment before glancing back up at Tony. “I mean, I suppose. But Peter has always looked very young for his age, Tony, you know that.”

Tony nods. “I do, but-- he’s _thirty-five_ , Pep. Don’t you think it’s weird that he still looks like he could pass for sixteen? Even Morgan doesn’t look like she’s still in her teens and she’s only twenty-four. If I didn’t know them I’d think she was the older sibling, not the other way around.”

Pepper marks the page in her book and sets it down, giving Tony a thoughtful look. “Where exactly are you going with this, Tony?”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know. But seeing him today with Morgan-- it reminded me of the day Helen told us Peter was sterile. She called him _one of a kind_ , and now it’s got me wondering what else there could be about his mutation that we don’t know. I mean, he was devastated that he couldn’t have kids, Pep. I guess I just don’t want any more nasty surprises for him. Pete’s been through enough, you know?”

Pepper hums an agreement. After a few seconds she says, “Well, maybe ask him if he’d be up for more tests? If he agrees you can schedule a trip to the compound for him and Michelle, and he can see Helen.”

Tony nods to himself, thinking. “I’d have to talk to her first just to see what else there is we haven’t poked and prodded the kid for yet, but that’s not a bad idea.”

Pepper smiles, picking up her book again while Tony goes back to his tablet, feeling more content now he has a plan.

Unfortunately, he never gets around to putting it in motion before Peter dies again.

* * *

**_3\. (8 years, 2 months, 11 days)_ **

Tony sits on the floor of the bathroom in his and Pepper’s suite at the compound, wrapped in a towel, staring at nothing. 

He knows that he flew here-- knows he flew Peter here too. But how… how, he can’t remember. Maybe Pepper or Rhodey had told him to, or maybe he had done it on autopilot-- carrying an injured Peter to safety, just as he had done tens of times before.

But this time, Peter wasn’t injured. 

This time, Peter was dead.

Through the crack of the open bathroom door Tony can make out the sunlight that filters through the bedroom. It makes no sense to him that it can be sunny, not when his kid is lying in a room, cold and pale, a gaping wound in his midsection and - as if that wasn’t enough - his neck snapped.

He can’t decide if he’s grateful or not for how quick it had been, Peter having only long enough to cry out for Tony - to call for his life-long hero to save him - before he was gone. But Tony hadn’t been fast enough, and now everything felt lost and gone, just as it had on Titan decades before.

He’d brought Peter back, then. But there was no bringing him back now.

“Tony?”

He looks up to see Pepper at the door, her eyes rimmed red, looking down at him with so much gentleness despite the horror and loss she’d also endured that day.

“Happy just arrived with May and Michelle,” she says softly, and Tony’s eyes immediately well up. God, he hadn’t given May or Michelle a second thought since the moment he realized Peter was gone.

God, how can he face them?

“Are they…” he trails off, unsure what he’s even really asking.

“Rhodey is with them now,” Pepper says, understanding. “We… we’re just waiting for Helen to give the okay, and then we can go see him.”

Tony looks up at her, eyes wide. “See him?”

Pepper comes in, kneeling down next to him and cupping his face, and Tony sees she’s crying too. “To say goodbye, my love.”

Oh, that’s right, Tony thinks. This isn’t like Titan. Peter is gone - dead - but his body is still here. 

Another thing Tony’s not sure if he’s grateful for or not. He supposes he is.

After a few minutes Pepper leaves him to get dressed, having laid out a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt for him on the bed. He puts them on mechanically, clasping his watch around his wrist only out of habit before taking a deep breath and heading for the main living area.

He arrives just in time to see May and Pepper - Michelle flanked between them - following Helen down another hallway of bedrooms. 

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and turns to see Happy, expression grave but eyes gentle. “Hey, boss. Let’s go see Peter, okay?”

Tony feels another presence beside him, recognizing it’s Rhodey without even looking. Tony turns back to the hallway, gaze honing in on Michelle-- on how even in the midst of what he knows must be unimaginable grief, she hasn’t let it completely overwhelm her.

He knows then, looking at her-- he can’t be there for Peter anymore, but he can be there for Michelle. Be strong for her, the way Peter would have wanted. Hell, the way Peter had asked, once, around the time they got married.

_“Tony, if something happens--”_

_“Nothing will happen,” Tony had interrupted, wanting anything but to have this conversation._

_“But if something does,” Peter repeated, determined as ever. “I need you to promise me that you’ll make sure she’s okay.”_

_“I love Michelle too, kid,” Tony said in response after a minute, something in Peter’s eyes lighting up at his words. “I’ll always take care of both of you. I promise.”_

As the memory fades, Tony nods at Happy and Rhodey, the three of them walking down the hallway, easily catching up with the women ahead. 

The fact that they’re walking toward the bedrooms - including Peter’s old room - hits Tony again. “Why is he--” 

“Helen thought it’d be easier to-- to see him here,” Rhodey says quietly. 

Tony nods again. “That’s-- I’ll have to thank her for that. She’s always been so good with him, I hope she knows how much I appreciate it, how much Peter does - did - appreciate--” 

Happy squeezes his shoulder tight. “Helen knows, boss.”

They stop outside of Peter’s old room then, Helen saying something quietly to Michelle and May before opening the door and stepping back. Tentatively May and Michelle enter, Pepper also stepping back before turning to Tony and giving him a quick hug.

“Go with them,” she whispers in his ear. “He’d want all three of you to be there.”

Tony feels numb but distantly determined as he nods into her shoulder before pulling away and walking through the door.

Tony lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding at the sight that greets him. Peter is laid out on his old bed, wearing a t-shirt with a blanket over his lower half. He looks peaceful, like he could be sleeping.

Michelle and May each step to one side of the bed, kneeling down. Tony walks over to stand behind Michelle, the thrum of the promise he’d made Peter already a constant-- the one thing he’s still holding onto, a lone purpose amidst the chaos in his mind.

May whispers a few words to Peter, Tony not paying too much attention-- wanting her to have as private a last moment as possible with her son. 

Eventually he feels eyes on him, and sees May’s gaze is directed his way. Her eyes are filled with tears as she gives him the tiniest of nods, and Tony cough a little, trying to think of what he wants to say. How to say goodbye.

“Thank you, kid. For-- for everything. And I’ll keep my promise, so you don’t have to worry, okay?” His voice breaks on _okay_ , and Tony takes a moment to collect himself. Finally he softly adds, “I love you, Peter-- so damn much. And I always will.”

It’s nothing he didn’t say to the kid when he was alive, but Tony supposes that only means he did things right-- been open with his love the way he vowed he would after Peter came back from Titan. 

Together the three of them watch over Peter in silence, all lost in their own thoughts. After some time - Tony isn’t sure how long - May catches his eye again, glancing purposefully over at Michelle then back at Tony.

He gets the silent message just as he did the first time, and leans over just enough to put a hand on Michelle’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She twists her head to look up at him - the first time she’s looked away from Peter since they entered the room - and the flash of gratefulness Tony sees in her eyes has him momentarily stunned, unable to speak.

He doesn’t deserve her gratitude-- not after today. But before he can even begin to formulate words, Michelle turns to look at May, who with tears in her eyes tells Michelle they’re going to leave her to say goodbye-- May recognizing Michelle needs to be alone with Peter.

Tony squeezes her shoulder again only to step away, giving his kid - his wonderful, strong, brave, brilliant kid - one last long look, before following May out into the hallway and softly shutting the door behind him. 

He was certain in that moment that the next time he saw Peter, the kid would be in a casket. But as was often the case for Tony, the universe saw fit to follow another path.

* * *

**_6\. (7 years, 4 months, 25 days)_ **

It’s not even a year after Peter comes back from the dead that Tony sees a report on the local news-- something about a new vigilante dressed head to toe in black, chasing down criminals in Brooklyn.

Tony remembers vividly the day Helen and Bruce had sat Peter down - Michelle, May and Tony hovering nearby - and explained that his telomeres regenerated at an unprecedented rate. The constant chromosomal upkeep allowed Peter to be brought back to life no matter what fate befell him-- probably as a result of his mutation’s reaction to his initial death on Titan.

_Immortal_ , Helen had called him that day-- the first person to utter the word, though they had all clearly thought it.

Interestingly, Peter’s first question after taking in the scientific explanations hadn’t been about the far-flung future he was facing down, but about the immediate one.

“What about Spider-Man?” he’d asked, looking between the three people he loved most-- all of whom were looking back at him with sad eyes. 

It was Tony who finally answered.

“The world thinks Spider-Man died, Pete. It was-- the footage was undeniable, kid. I don’t know how we come back from that-- how Spider-Man comes back from that. God knows there are plenty of terrible people in the world who would hunt you down for god-knows-what if they knew you can’t-- if they knew the truth.”

It had been a tough transition ever since, and Tony could tell also a source of tension between Michelle and Peter on top of dealing with how to handle Peter’s perpetual teenaged appearance-- so blatantly obvious now that they knew what was going on.

Watching the footage of the new vigilante - barely three seconds long and taken at night, leaving only a blurry outline of the person disappearing into a dark alley after taking down a drug ring - niggles at Tony’s brain, just like footage taken of a spry young man in a red and blue onesie had nearly three decades earlier.

Apparently he hasn’t lost his touch, as it only takes him and FRIDAY fifteen minutes to narrow down the likely identity. 

With a sigh, Tony rings up Peter.

_“Hey Tony, what’s up? I’m actually on my way to QCC, so I don’t--”_

“And how _are_ those community college night classes you’re teaching going, by the way?” Tony asks, not bothering to hide the snark in his tone.

_“Uh, good, uh-- you know how it is, just-- lots of work and stuff. Anyway, did you need something?”_

“Oh yeah, I do. I know you’re in a hurry, but just a quick question for you because I’m frankly stumped,” Tony says. ”I’m trying to figure out how you’re teaching night classes and also running around fighting crime at the same time?”

Silence on the other end. Tony rolls his eyes.

“Kid, did you really think nobody would figure it out?”

_“It’s not like I’m being Spider-Man! I’m not even using web-shooters.”_

Tony sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s not the point, Pete. The point is that if something happened to you - if you _died_ again - and none of us knew… that could go really badly, to put it mildly. You _know_ this, kid.”

When Peter doesn’t respond, Tony adds, “Does Michelle know?”

He hears Peter sigh. _“If she knew she’d never let me do this, Tony. It’s already hard enough with everything else.”_

“You need to tell her, Peter,” Tony says, voice hard. “How can you possibly think it’s okay to--”

_“I don’t think it’s_ okay, _I just-- I need to...”_

“You need to keep stopping the bad things from happening,” Tony finishes for him, closing his eyes.

_“Yeah. I just-- I can’t die, you know? How can I not use that for good? Would_ you _be able to stop if you knew something like that?”_

Tony works his jaw, saying nothing. The truth is-- he’s not sure. He’s not sure he would be able to stop if he discovered he was virtually indestructible. And knowing Peter as well as he does, he’s not surprised in the least that the kid couldn’t call it quits either.

_“Please Tony-- please don’t tell her.”_

“I won’t tell her,” Tony says. “But when this all goes to hell I want it to be made crystal clear that I was an _extremely_ reluctant accessory.”

He can practically hear Peter’s smile through the phone. _“Got it. You were absolutely coerced, your hand was forced, yada yada.”_

Tony can’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitch at how happy Peter sounds-- how much like _himself_ he sounds, more than he has since they learned the truth. It stirs something warm in Tony’s chest.

God, he’s become such a softie in his old age. And worse, his kids know how to use it.

“At the very least if you’re gonna be out there, you’re going out with decent tech, okay?” Tony says, trying to hide how pleased he is. “I know it can’t be obvious Stark tech, but still-- none of this OYO crap anymore.”

_“Of course,”_ Peter answers easily. _“I’ll be over tomorrow.”_

* * *

**_4\. (8 years, 2 months, 11 days)_ **

The Worst Thing Tony ever heard Peter say was - beyond a possible doubt - _I’m sorry._

He never thought he'd get an equivalent Best Thing. But Tony did-- he did get it, and in pure Peter Parker fashion, it was just as commonplace and typical as a basic apology.

They’d all been in the common area, just rooms away from where Peter still lay, pale and rigid and cold. 

Tony was in a daze, watching as everyone sat or stood around, eyes on the television which played over and over again the footage of the last moments of Peter’s life. 

He’d barely held back a sob as he whispered, “Turn it off,” the room falling into silence only for his cell phone to ring, Pepper going after it.

He’d told Pepper to leave that alone too, but she hadn’t-- looking up from the ringing cell and announcing with a shaky voice, “It’s Morgan,” before turning away and answering.

The bottom of what little is left of Tony’s world falls out from underneath him, struck dumb in the face of having to confront the agonizing reality that it’s not only his child sobbing at the other end of that line, but his _surviving_ child. His _brotherless_ daughter. Because Peter was his kid in all the ways that mattered-- was Morgan’s older sibling too. He _was_ , he _was_. 

He was, because he no longer _is_.

And god, it’s Tony’s fault this happened. If he’d been even two seconds faster, if he’d pushed the suit just a little bit harder-- this tragedy could have been avoided.

The urge he’d had earlier to apologize to Michelle hits him again like a tsunami, burying him beneath an undercurrent of grief and carrying him out to stormy seas. 

He glances over at her, only to see her staring down toward the hallway, face pale and eyes unblinking.

Tony opens his mouth - to say what, he doesn’t know - but he doesn’t get any further before May gasps. Instinctively his gaze follows her and Michelle’s line of sight.

But no, it can’t be--

“What happened?” Peter Parker asks from the hallway opening, looking for all the world like he’d just woken up after a hard night’s sleep following a late night patrol.

The thing in the hallway looks innocent enough, but all Tony can think in this moment is that he’s been mindfucked before, and that whoever was doing it again - and using his dead kid to do it when said kid hadn’t even had a goddamn _funeral_ yet - was the worst piece of shit imaginable. 

His watch has already formed a gauntlet before he finishes raising his arm-- nobody in the room missing how much he’s shaking.

_You absolute fucker I’m going to tear you to pieces--_

May lets out a scream then, but still nobody moves-- nobody except Peter ( _not Peter that’s not your kid Tony it’s not it can’t be_ ) who slowly walks forward, hands up, face open and eyebrows scrunched in precisely the same way Peter’s always did when he was confused bordering on concerned.

“I… guys, it’s just me,” the thing wearing Peter’s face says, staring at each of them one by one, his gaze staying on Michelle for an extra beat before he meets Tony’s eyes.

_It’s not him it’s not him this isn’t possible it can’t be--_

Yet Tony’s body betrays him, walking forward before he’s even made a conscious decision to get closer-- needing to know, needing to reach out and touch, to make sure he’s _real_ \--

The gauntlet fades back into the watch just as Tony reaches out a hand to touch Peter’s shoulder - _real he’s real he’s real -_ and uses the other to lift the kid’s shirt.

He stares in wonder for a moment before reverently grazing his fingertips across Peter’s unblemished abdomen. Quickly he moves both arms up, one hand feeling the back of the kid’s neck as the other cups his cheek. His vertebrae feel perfectly aligned, and Tony moves that hand to run his fingers over and over through Peter’s curls, looking desperately into his eyes in disbelief.

The kid looks positively freaked out now but he doesn’t pull away, more than willing to let Tony do whatever it is he needs to do before he starts demanding answers. 

And that, beyond anything else tells Tony-- _my kid this is my kid this is my Peter._

“You’re back,” Tony breathes out-- throat closing up on the second word and preventing it from coming out like the question he really meant it as.

Peter brow furrows. “Back from where?”

Before Tony can answer, May moves forward with a sob, wrapping her arms around Peter, Tony pulling back.

Even as he wraps May up in an embrace, Peter’s gaze doesn’t leave Tony’s, and he can tell the kid is starting to put it all together. 

Sees the very moment the realization of _where_ exactly Peter had come back from hits the kid, the look of denial and disbelief in his eyes as he tries to accept the utterly impossible.

But clearly it _wasn’t_ impossible, all the evidence Tony needed staring back at him even if he couldn’t even begin to explain it-- could barely fathom it.

Peter was back.

_Back from the dead._

* * *

**_9\. (4 months, 1 day)_ **

They’re all together for Morgan’s 31st birthday when - after a decades-long hiatus - Death makes another attempt to steal Tony away.

The seven of them - Tony, Pepper, Happy, Michelle, Peter, Morgan and Morgan’s girlfriend Thea - are just digging into the cake following a lavish steak dinner when the ache Tony’s been trying to ignore in his left shoulder all day is suddenly dwarfed by a sudden, stinging pain in his chest. 

It’s like someone has clenched their fist around his heart as Tony clutches at his shirt, turning to Pepper with wide, frightened eyes as he tries and fails to stand up.

“Tony!” someone yells as he collapses to the ground, Peter flinging himself out of his chair and just barely managing to cradle Tony’s head before it can smack the wood floor.

“FRIDAY?” Pepper calls out and Tony can only barely make out the AI’s response through the agony of the vice wrapped around his chest and the blood rushing in his ears.

“Boss appears to be suffering from a myocardial infarction,” she announces. “Immediate medical intervention is recommended.”

“That’s a heart attack,” someone says at the same time Tony hears Morgan ask in a small voice, “Dad?”

Tony wants to answer-- to tell his baby girl he’s going to be okay. But when he opens his mouth to reply nothing comes out but a pitiful moan. A wave of nausea passes over him as he looks up into Peter’s worried eyes, feels Pepper take one of his hands into her own. His heart goes fast and then slow, trying and failing to find its regular rhythm.

“Hang on, Tony,” Peter says, and _god,_ he looks so frightened. Both his children are terrified and Tony hates that he’s the reason why.

“Stay with us, love,” Pepper begs, and Tony wants to so, so badly. But there is no mercy to be found, and Tony feels his heart losing its battle against Death.

His vision starts to fade out, everything blurring at the edges. Distantly, Tony is aware he doesn’t have much time.

“Please, just hang on,” Tony hears Peter say again through the fog in his brain, and Tony focuses just long enough to see tears falling down the kid’s face. 

Tony realizes with horror that this might be the last time he ever sees Peter-- that even in death there will be no eventual reunion. 

With the last of his remaining strength Tony lifts up his free arm, barely managing to swipe a palm across Peter’s cheek before it falls away again, landing limply on his stomach.

His last thought before oblivion takes him is that it’s too soon, it’s _too soon_.

Tony still hasn’t found a way to help Peter. 

* * *

**_5\. (8 years, 2 months, 10 days)_ **

Tony finds Peter out by the compound lake, sitting in the grass.

It’s past midnight, and everyone else is asleep-- exhausted by the events of the day. It seems Tony and Peter are the only ones who can’t let their minds rest, still reeling from the fact that mere hours ago Peter had been _dead_ \- zero brain function, rigor mortis, the whole shebang - and had miraculously come back to life.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony says, coming to sit next to Peter. The kid hadn’t looked back at him as he walked up, but he knew Peter would have heard him coming, probably before he was even outside.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter says, still not glancing over at him.

There’s not really much to say, Tony knows. So instead of using words, he just shimmies his butt over the last foot between them until they’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip. Tony wraps an arm around Peter, who leans his head against the man’s collarbone.

“What does this mean?” Peter asks softly, after a few minutes.

“This means you’re still here-- still with us, still _alive_ ,” Tony says, before adding a soft, “thank god.”

“No, Tony,” Peter says again. “What does this _mean?_ For me?”

Tony sighs. He had known what Peter meant-- just didn’t want to say his thoughts aloud, on the very small off-chance Peter hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. 

But clearly Peter had.

“Let’s just see what Helen and Bruce come up with first, okay?” he finally settles on, knowing it’s not enough to satisfy Peter’s need for reassurance.

But the fact is-- Tony doesn’t really have any reassurances to provide right now.

Because even in his immense relief, his boundless love and gratitude-- doubts are already wriggling in the back of Tony’s mind.

Tony wanted Peter to live-- and now Peter will _,_ no matter what. Tony should be overjoyed beyond measure.

But something is holding him back, has been since he saw Peter in the hallway-- sure as something held Peter back from the permanency of death.

It’s a simple truth, if a heartbreaking one.

Peter can’t die-- but everyone he loves and who loves him still can.

* * *

**_11\. (3 months, 19 days)_ **

Tony survives the heart attack, but the doctors don’t mince words: he’s dying. He has months left, at most.

He’s back at home now, Pepper having brought in two full-time nurses from the compound and arranged for one of the guest bedrooms to be outfitted with everything one needs to care for a dying old man. 

There Tony spends most of his days in bed, using up countless oxygen tanks and trying his hardest to be the beacon of comfort and love his wife and kids need him to be-- Peter and Morgan both visiting as often as they can.

It’s only in the middle of the night, when everyone has left or is asleep, that Tony lets himself ruminate on his hastening death.

It doesn’t scare him. Maybe it once did, when he was a younger man, but Tony has miraculously lived a long life, and somehow managed to live it well. He’d fulfilled Yinsen’s dying wish, doing his best not to waste a moment-- and he wanted to believe the man would agree he had succeeded.

No, Tony wasn’t scared of death. 

What he was terrified of - what he was already grieving for - was losing Peter. 

Tony had no idea what was on the other side - wasn’t a religious person - but he hoped that whatever came next, it included seeing the people who had gone before you, and that you would be there to greet those who came after.

Peter, though-- Peter would never come after Tony. And when Tony thought of how long a life Peter would have, it was unfathomable. 

How someone as good as Peter Parker would have been chosen to face such a fate was _also_ frankly unfathomable. Tony couldn’t imagine a crueler destiny for someone who thrived so much on love, family and friendship.

It haunts Tony-- knowing that he vowed to himself to find something to help Peter get through the ages, and knowing he had ultimately failed. 

It’s not until one day - following a check-in message from an old friend who also happens to be a Nordic god - that an idea comes together in his mind.

Maybe _Tony_ can’t help Peter, but that doesn’t mean that Peter has to be alone forever either.

With that thought in mind, Tony picks up his tablet and gets to work.

* * *

**_7\. (6 years, 10 months, 22 days)_ **

Tony gets the alert at 9:12pm.

Peter’s stealth suit is showing no vitals, courtesy of a fatal bullet wound to the heart. 

There’s no footage to watch but Tony does listen to the audio. Just as before, it had been so fast Peter barely would have had time to even know he was dying before he was gone.

It’s not that Tony isn’t thankful for that small miracle-- it’s just that now he has to count on a much bigger one.

Still, he can’t help but feel a panic swirling in his gut as he hurriedly confesses the truth to Pepper, begging her to call May and Happy and then collect Michelle while he retrieves Peter’s b-- while he retrieves _Peter._

To Pepper’s credit, she waits to give Tony the enraged lecture he knows is on the tip of her tongue, instead offering up a tight nod and a quick hug before saying she’ll see him at the compound.

It’s with a heavy heart that Tony finds Peter sprawled out lifelessly in a back alley, hidden from the street by a dumpster. 

He feels numb as he wraps the kid up in a large blanket, before using a suit to hastily move him into the backseat of the car-- setting it to self-drive mode before climbing in the back as well and cradling the kid’s head in his lap.

He barely looks down for most of the drive, just stares out the window listlessly while running his fingers through Peter’s curls over and over again. 

Tony’s not surprised to see May, Happy, Pepper and Michelle already waiting for them in the compound garage. 

He can feel the tension radiating from the entire group but it’s Michelle he is especially aware of-- the one he’s betrayed the most by caving to Peter’s pleas.

Michelle’s shaking, her normally tightly controlled expression barely holding back the tide of emotions warring within her as she silently watches Tony don the suit again, picking Peter up carefully in a bridal hold.

He’s thankful for the mask that covers his face as the group of five ( _no, not five - six, there’s six_ ) take the elevator to the residential wing, Tony laying Peter down in his bed and letting the nanites slide back into their case.

Together he and Happy slowly maneuver Peter‘s arms and head out of the suit, pulling it down to his stomach. Only once the bullet hole over his heart is clearly visible does someone speak.

“I can’t-- I can’t be here for this,” May whispers, putting a hand to her mouth when a tiny sob escapes. Happy rushes over to her and with an arm around her shoulders, guides them both out of the room.

Pepper disappears out the door behind them, and Tony thinks she is gone for good until she reappears with two chairs, placing them by the bed.

“You could both use somewhere to sit while you wait for him to come back,” she says as she looks between Tony and Michelle, her voice steady and full of confidence.

Tony gives her a grateful look, hugging her quickly before moving one of the chairs to the far side of the bed and sitting down, taking Peter’s cool hand into his own.

It takes Pepper putting a gentle hand on Michelle’s arm for her to do the same, sitting down but not moving to take Peter’s hand-- just staring down at him with the same carefully blank but barely controlled expression she’d been wearing since Tony arrived.

With that Pepper leaves the two of them to sit in silence-- a silence which lasts all of thirty seconds before Tony breaks.

“Michelle, I,” he begins, voice cracking, “I’m so sorry. This is my--”

“Don’t you dare,” Michelle says, that undercurrent of earlier rage unmistakeable in her tone, Tony’s jaw snapping shut so fast his teeth click.

“Don’t you _dare_ take even an ounce of responsibility for what happened today from him, Tony,” Michelle continues. “You’re always trying to protect him, and normally I’m grateful for that but you will _not_ protect him from this. Peter,” - her voice breaks on his name, but she stubbornly barrels on - “Peter needs to know what he’s done, to _all_ of us.”

She fixes Tony with a hard stare. “Not that what you did is even _remotely_ okay, but you’re also not my damn husband.”

Her eyes flicker with something like understanding when she adds, “With you, I expect it-- we all do. Peter knows better than anyone that you can’t ever say no to him, and especially since we found out the truth.”

Before Tony can think of a response, Michelle goes on, her tone a touch softer.

“I was on that field trip to Oscorp, the day he was bitten,” she says, almost conversationally-- as if she was remarking on a beautiful flower or the state of the weather instead of her currently dead husband.

“Oh yeah?” Tony replies after a moment, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Michelle replies, and only then does she reach out to take Peter’s other hand, looking down as she cradles it between her own. “And ever since the first time he came home to me bleeding and injured, not a day has gone by where I haven’t wished it had been me instead. At least I have the common sense not to throw myself into stupidly dangerous situations all the time, y’know?”

She looks back at Tony then, and he sees tears gathered in her eyes. She gives him a small, watery smile when she says, “I always tell Peter I’m the only one between us with a working brain cell, but right now I _really_ mean it.”

Even as Michelle chuckles Tony can tell there’s no joy in it, and it feels like he’s intruding on a private moment as he watches her lean over Peter and press a gentle kiss to his cold, blue lips.

“Hurry up, dumbass,” she says softly, pushing a few stray curls out of his face before leaning back into her chair, still holding his hand.

They sit like that for almost another hour, saying nothing more, before the change happens.

Tony is so busy staring at Peter’s slack features he almost doesn’t catch it-- wouldn’t have if Michelle hadn’t gasped. His gaze flits down just in time to see the skin around the bullet hole knit back together until it covers the wound completely, like it never existed.

Michelle and Tony exchange looks of pure wonder, Michelle ghosting a hand over the brand new skin in awe.

She jumps back a little after a few moments, but her hand remains over Peter’s chest as she breathes out, “His heart-- it’s beating. I can-- I can feel it under my palm.”

Tony moves his free hand to Peter’s neck, and sure enough-- his carotid is going strong again.

It only takes a minute after that for Peter to take the fourth first breath of his life, lungs inhaling deeply even as his eyes don’t yet open. 

“C’mon, Parker,” Michelle chants under her breath, a tear escaping down her cheek. “You know how much I hate it when you keep me waiting.”

As if her words are some sort of key, Peter opens his eyes, slowly blinking. He stares at the ceiling for a few beats before his gaze settles first on Michelle, then Tony.

“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing both their hands. 

“Hi kid,” Tony says at the same time Michelle whispers, “Hey tiger,” both of them squeezing back and giving him matching giant grins, trying to hold back more tears.

“Wha’ happ’ned?” he croaks out, and just like that-- the energy in the room shifts. 

Tony doesn’t miss the way Michelle’s back goes rigid, probably remembering - just like Tony - the last time Peter asked that same question. Her grin falls away, eyes turning to steel and mouth settling into a thin-lipped frown.

“What happened is you died on me _again,_ Parker,” Michelle says, fury and fear laced in her words. “But you want to know the worst part? It wasn’t even that you died again-- it’s that you lied to me for _months._ How could you do that to me-- to _us?”_

Peter looks utterly gobsmacked-- a small part of Tony internally rolling his eyes at how surprised he seems that this happened. _Hate to say it but I told you so, kid._

“MJ, please, just--”

Michelle lets out a frustrated sound, letting go of Peter’s hand and standing up, the chair behind her sliding back a foot. She points a shaking finger at Tony then, who sinks a bit into his own chair. 

“And on top of that you brought Tony into this too? How--how _dare_ you take advantage of the people who love you like that!”

Feeling about five inches tall, Tony starts to stand up. “Why don’t I give you two some time to--”

“No,” Michelle says, and Tony immediately sits back down, not daring to so much as glance at Peter as Michelle stares him down.

“No,” she repeats. “You will stay, Tony. Peter needs to-- he needs to see how much it hurts his family to have to go through this _again_ . How fucking awful it was for me when Pepper showed up at our apartment door just to tell me he had died _again_.”

She turns to look at Peter then, eyes still furious. “May couldn’t even stay in here, did you know that? Happy had to take her out because she was crying so hard. I just-- I can’t _believe_ you, Peter. How could you?”

Michelle starts to cry herself then, and it’s like Peter breaks out of a trance as he lets go of Tony’s hand, jumping off the bed and enveloping her in his arms.

“I’m sorry, MJ,” he says into her hair. “God, I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Michelle pulls back after a few moments, wiping at her face, expression taking a heartbreaking turn as she looks Peter straight in the eyes.

“I’d live out eternity with you if I could Peter, but I will _not_ watch you die over and over again out of some idiotic misplaced sense of duty. I won’t do it.”

With that she turns on her heels and walks out of the room, letting the door shut behind her.

Peter stares at the empty air where Michelle had been with a devastated expression, before practically collapsing into the vacant chair by the bed and leaning over, head in his hands.

His eyes are pleading when he looks up at Tony. 

“She doesn’t understand, Tony. I can’t just give this up-- I _need_ to be saving people. To--to be doing something with this-- this power or curse or whatever the fuck it is.”

Tony sighs at that, only to lean forward and put his elbows on the bed, resting his chin on top of steepled fingers.

“I’ll be honest with you, Pete. If you don’t give this up, I really think you could lose her.”

The look in Peter’s eyes at Tony’s declaration is proof enough that the thought literally hadn’t occurred to him until just then. As though it was inconceivable-- a complete impossibility. 

But Tony knew it wasn’t-- had been there himself with Pepper. He wondered if he ever told Peter about that… probably not, considering the situation they were in now.

“I can’t lose MJ,” Peter says simply, before looking down at his chest and rubbing a hand over where the bullet had entered him. “She’s-- she’s everything.”

“Then you can’t build these kinds of walls, kid,” Tony says, doing his best to be gentle but firm. “They start out paper-thin but before you know they’re made of vibranium, and you can’t break them down no matter how hard you try. Don’t do that to your marriage.”

Peter thinks for a few moments, before nodding slowly. “No, you’re right. I-- I can do that for her. I’m _going_ to do that for her. No more playing vigilante. No more-- no more Spider-Man.”

Tony doesn’t point out that Spider-Man hasn’t been around for going on two years-- knows somehow that part of Peter’s latest stunt had been his way of keeping his former alter ego alive. 

Instead he simply nods back. “I think that’s a good choice, Pete.”

Peter nods again in reply, this time with more determination-- only to huff out a bitter laugh that takes Tony completely by surprise.

“And anyway, it’s not like she’s going to live forever like me, is she? Fifty, sixty years-- I’ll be alone again and then I can die as much as I want to because nobody will still be alive who cares.”

It’s like all the air is sucked out of the room, Tony’s heart dropping into his stomach.

Peter sounds so desolate, so alone-- and worse, Tony has no idea what to tell him. Because what could make the prospect of facing down forever by yourself _better?_ What could even make it _okay?_

Tony knows he doesn’t have much time left to try to figure out the answer before he’s one of the people leaving Peter behind-- but damn it if he’s not going to try.

* * *

**_12\. (2 weeks, 2 days)_ **

Peter comes over early, before work. Though Tony used to be a night owl - able to go days without sleeping - ever since he’s been put on at-home hospice care he’s found he is most alert and aware around dawn. And with how much he sleeps these days, his visitors could come over every afternoon for a week straight and not get a chance to actually visit with him.

The sky is just barely starting to light up when there’s a soft knock at his bedroom door, and Peter enters. Tony’s night nurse greets the kid with a small smile before retreating to the living room to give them some privacy. 

“Hey Tony,” Peter greets softly, sitting down in the chair the nurse had vacated. 

Carefully Tony removes his oxygen mask, his hand shaking at even that light strain. “Hey kid.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, taking each other in. Peter tries to give Tony a grin but doesn’t quite manage it, and it turns out more a grimace as his eyes search Tony’s face. 

It’s no secret Tony isn’t at his best these days-- body failing him on nearly every level. His blood feels like molasses in his veins, he can hardly keep even the most bland food down, can barely hold his head up any longer.

There’s not much time left, he knows. Which is okay-- he’s already had far more time than he ever thought he’d get. 

He mostly just wishes he could put a genuine smile on Peter’s face again. 

It’s a big ask-- the kid having only just managed to get through the last few visits without crying, much less smiling. But who knows - maybe today will be the day. 

“I got something for you,” Tony says slowly, having to take deep breaths between every other word. He raises an arm and motions to a small, rectangular silver case resting near the foot of his bed.

Peter chuckles quietly as he leans over and grabs it, pulling it into his lap. “Don’t tell me you made me another suit. Palliative care patient or not, Michelle isn’t afraid to throw down.”

Tony laughs, only for it to turn into a deep, wet cough. He ignores Peter’s worried expression, instead wordlessly beckoning the kid to open the case as he takes a careful sip of water from the glass on his swivel table.

Peter does, staring down at the contents before carefully pulling the largest object out and examining it for a few moments,only to look back up at Tony playfully. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but if I wanted a brick cellphone you know they’re about five bucks on eBay, right?”

“Hush, you ungrateful little shit,” Tony teases right back, Peter smirking in response. “I know it looks straight out of 1984 but that’s because it’s built to last, okay? That thing could survive a nuclear explosion as long as it’s in its case.”

“Okay…” Peter says, examining it some more. “So, uh… what’s it for?”

Tony smiles. “Well, you weren’t wrong entirely. It’s a wireless communication device, hooked up to my - well, _your_ \- AI E.D.I.T.H. Say _hi E.D.I.T.H._ ”

“Hi E.D.I.T.H.,” Peter repeats, and the screen of the bulky device lights up.

“Hello Peter,” E.D.I.T.H. says. “To whom would you like me to place a call?”

“Call? Uhhh--”  
  


“Would you like to see the list of available contacts?” E.D.I.T.H. asks, Peter turning to Tony who just nods encouragingly.

“Um, sure.”

Tony can’t see the list from his vantage point when it pops up, but he doesn’t miss the way Peter’s entire posture seemingly electrifies as he scrolls down the list of names, nor the way his face lights up in awe.

“But, Tony, how did you--”

“I have my ways,” Tony says, and he can’t help the warmth building in his chest at the sight of the sheer _life_ dancing behind Peter’s eyes as he stares at Tony with wonder before continuing to read.

“Valkyrie I get, since she’s in Norway-- but Thor’s been off-world for decades! Not to mention Star-Lord… wait, is this a _pager number_ for Captain Marvel? I just… how did--”

“I have my ways,” Tony repeats, refusing to give Strange the satisfaction of getting any credit-- knowing the sorcerer was probably keeping a damn third eye or whatever on the conversation, the old curmudgeonly bastard.

“Everyone in that contact list has their own device that connects to yours, alright?” Tony says. “And like I said, it’s built to last - has a mini arc reactor and everything - so even if you don’t use the thing for decades or even five-hundred years or more, it should still work. It is my tech, after all. But just in case I’ve included replacement parts and tools.”

When Peter looks back up at Tony, his eyes are gleaming. “I can’t-- Tony, this is too--”

“Don’t say it’s too much, Pete,” Tony interrupts him. “It’s not too much for you-- hell, it’ll never be enough.”

“Tony--”

“I’ve been trying to find a way to help you - to make this better - almost since the day Spider-Man died on national television,” he barrels on. “But I realized only recently-- the people who can truly help you are the ones like you, or as close as I know of. Quill’s dad was a planet, did you know that? Millions of years old. Who knows how long that toe-headed asshole will be hanging around. Meanwhile Thor is pushing seventeen-hundred and barely looks a day over 30. And Val said to let you know there’s a room on permanent standby for you in New Asgard, if ever you want to visit or even make a life there.”

“I… I don’t know what to say, Tony,” Peter says, looking back down at the device for a few moments before placing it carefully back in its case and scooting closer to Tony. Gently he wraps his arms around him, leaning his head into the crevice where Tony’s neck meets his shoulder. 

“Thank you so, so much-- for everything,” Peter whispers.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Tony murmurs, simply basking in the feel of his kid’s arms around him.

They’re still hugging when the tiniest wisps of a memory come to him, and Tony adds softly, “Just make sure to toss this memory into your mind canyon for me, okay?”

Peter pulls away then, swiping a sleeve over watery eyes even as his lips turn up. Tony knows he too is thinking of a quiet conversation in a church garden not all that long ago, and there - _there_ \- is the smile Tony was waiting for. Finally.

“I’ll carry it with me forever,” Peter promises, eyes dancing once more with life and joy, with hope and dreams-- with everything Tony ever wanted for him. 

Tony may not have much time left, but he’s with Peter right now.

And right _now_ , right _here_ , looking at _that_ smile on his kid’s face that Tony put there-- it’s enough.

“I love you, Peter,” Tony says, overthrown by the sheer force of his affection as he looks on at his amazing, vibrant, strong, staggeringly _brave_ kid. 

“I love you too, Tony,” Peter says back, easy as breathing.

They’re still softly smiling at one another when light from the east-facing windows suddenly floods Tony’s vision. He closes his eyes, smile still lingering.

_Yeah_ , Tony thinks as the morning rays kiss his skin warm, the sun rising on a new day.

_It’s enough._

* * *

**_8\. (2 years, 6 months, 15 days)_ **

Tony had hoped for at least a decade of relative peace and contentment after the kid truly hung up his suit, but then-- a tumor is found in May’s left lung. 

Three months later, she’s gone.

Nobody is prepared for losing May. Not Happy, her husband of over two decades. Not Tony, for whom May was like a sister. And certainly not Peter, who walks around like a zombie at the funeral reception-- not crying but not totally _there_ either, barely acknowledging anything around him.

Even in his own grief, Tony can’t help but keep an eye on the kid, and the more he watches the more worried he becomes that the time they have left to hide Peter in plain sight is rapidly coming to an end.

The funeral had brought many of May’s old nurse colleagues and distant family - Reilly and Parker both - together, most of whom hadn’t seen Peter in ten years or more-- the gaps in meeting made all the clearer by the amount of confused stares and whispered gossip exchanged between the various bereaved. 

For his part Peter seems completely oblivious. But it’s not long before Michelle catches Tony’s eye, glancing pointedly between Peter and the door before turning back to the seemingly never-ending parade of those who had lined up to give their condolences to Happy and the kid. 

“I’m going to check on Pete,” he tells Pepper and Morgan - who had flown in for the funeral - before chucking his half-empty foam cup of bad coffee and walking over.

Peter doesn’t even notice him approaching until he puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder, Peter starting before giving Tony a look like he’s completely lost-- unsure how to be what he’s supposed to be in this situation.

Tony wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to be _anything_ right now, but all that comes out is, “Let’s get some fresh air, huh bud?”

Peter nods, expression drawn and tight-lipped as Tony guides him through the crowd and out a side exit, into the church’s back garden. 

Tony’s grateful they seem to be alone as he leads Peter to a stone bench. Peter grabs Tony’s arm out of habit to help ease him down first - his body not being as strong as it once was - before sitting down himself and staring listlessly at the small fountain in front of them.

They sit in silence like that for a few minutes, Tony unsure what to say that could possibly be of comfort-- could lighten the overwhelming waves of grief that keep bowling the kid over, sweeping him out of the present and letting him get lost in his own head.

Before Tony can gather his own thoughts, Peter beats him to the punch.

“I’ll always be right here.”

Tony twists his head to look at Peter, but he just continues to stare into the fountain, looking for all the world like he hadn’t even realized he’d spoken.

“Pete?” Tony gently asks.

Peter finally turns to look at him, eyes filled with tears. “It’s the last thing May said to me, before she drifted off that final time. She put her hand over my heart and said, _I’ll always be right here, Peter.”_

Tony swallows down the lump in his throat. “That’s-- that’s really nice. And it’s true-- you’ll always carry May with--”

“I’m just so tired of being the one left behind, you know?” Peter continues as if Tony hadn’t spoken. His voice is resigned in a way that grates on Tony’s ears-- grates on him in a way that feels distinctly like failure.

“But it’s only just the beginning, isn’t it?” Peter goes on, and the lump in Tony’s throat climbs right back up. “There are still so many people I love left to lose. It’s like-- it’s like there’s a constant countdown dogging my steps for each of you, reminding me every time I manage to forget - forget all _this_ \- that before long I’ll be all alone, and I just-- I don’t--”

Peter head drops to look down at his lap, back shaking with suppressed sobs. Tony moves to put a hand between his shoulders, Peter’s head whipping back up at the touch. He stares up at the clouds as he wipes his cheeks, before turning to Tony again.

“But that’s exactly what I’m afraid of too,” Peter says, continuing when he sees the flicker of confusion in Tony’s eyes. “Forgetting. Ben hasn’t even been gone three decades and I can hardly remember his voice, or his laugh, or what he smelled like… how will I keep May with me for hundreds - hell, _thousands_ \- of years? Or you, or Michelle?”

Tony doesn’t reply-- has no idea what to say.

“I’m scared, Mister Stark,” Peter says then, and Tony’s heart breaks at the use of the old moniker. Peter hadn’t called him that in decades, but Tony knew why he was using it now. 

The Peter that had called him ‘Mister Stark’ believed Tony had all the answers. The Peter before him now knows better, but Tony understands more than anyone that old beliefs die hard.

“Tell me how not to be scared,” Peter says, voice cracking. “Please, Tony.”

“Oh, kid,” Tony says, feeling a tear fall down his own cheek. “God, I wish I knew. I’m scared all the damn time.”

“What do I do?” Peter murmurs miserably. “How--how do I do this and not lose everything?”

Another tear falls down Tony’s cheek as he tries to think of what to say. 

The fact is, Tony still doesn’t have the answers Peter needs. But that doesn’t matter-- his kid is looking to him to provide something - _anything_ \- to hold onto, and no way in hell is Tony going to let Peter down.

He leans over, pushing an errant curl out of Peter’s eyes before pressing a gentle hand to his cheek. 

“I want so badly to have an answer for you, kid. But the truth is, you are going to forget - going to _lose_ \- some things. Maybe most things,” Tony says, letting his hand drop with a sigh as he looks down at the fountain. “Time is a sneaky thief that way.”

He fixes his gaze back on Peter, giving the kid a soft smile.

“But what you can do is take the best memories - the most precious ones - and lock them up tight,” Tony says, pointing to his temple. “Build a giant canyon in your mind, and let those memories echo back and forth in there, never to fade entirely. Go back to them when you are in need of comfort, think of them as often as you want, and don’t let yourself forget for a moment that you are - _are_ , not were - so very loved.”

Tony’s voice cracks on the word _loved_ , and he can feel tears gathering in his eyes-- but he stubbornly refuses to let any more fall, needing to be strong for the kid. 

Needing for Peter to believe him-- to have something made of light to hold onto in the days of darkness that are sure to come.

“Because you are, kid. You are _so_ loved,” Tony repeats, taking Peter’s hand in his and gently stroking over his thumb. “And no amount of time or distance or death can take away the love that all of us - May, me, Michelle, _everyone_ \- have for you. Today, tomorrow, a million years from now-- Peter Benjamin Parker will still be loved.”

Peter takes a deep breath, holding Tony’s gaze before giving him a determined nod and squeezing his hand tightly. 

He doesn’t say anything further, and neither does Tony-- there’s really nothing more that needs to be said. Tony can only hope that some part of Peter believes him-- that he will find a way to carry that small ray of light for the ages yet to pass.

Michelle and Pepper find them out there hours later. Even after Peter helps Tony to his feet their hands remain intertwined, the laced fingers an unspoken yet fierce agreement as they leave the garden.

Together, they go home.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are most appreciated. Or come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://blondsak.tumblr.com)!


End file.
